


Favors, Gifts and Obligation

by lenija



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Gen, Yuletide, Yuletide 2011, Yuletide Treat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-25
Updated: 2011-12-25
Packaged: 2017-10-28 02:56:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/302961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lenija/pseuds/lenija
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Garrus owes something to a lot of people. Or so he thinks.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Favors, Gifts and Obligation

**Author's Note:**

  * For [twelvearms](https://archiveofourown.org/users/twelvearms/gifts).



> Spoiler warning for Lair of the Shadow Broker DLC!
> 
> This was fun to write, thank you, twelvearms, for the request! Also thanks a lot to J and to my helpful Yuletide chat beta. You rock!

 

"Shadow Broker."

Liara must have recognized his voice. She turns around slowly, showing no trace of surprise. Instead she smiles at him warmly and just the slightest bit cocky.

"Garrus! How nice to have you here. Didn't you all want to leave today - to get the Reaper IFF, if I remember correctly?"

"There are still some repairs to be made and some upgrades to be implemented. I decided to pay you a visit –"

"- look at my files and spy on my operations for a bit..."

"Not at all." He's tapping his foot impatiently. She notices and glares at him until he stops.

It's irritating, really, the way she looms over him with the absolute confidence that she is the one in charge. Didn't this one used to be sweet, young and gentle? Maybe his memory isn't as good as he thought it was.

"You want something."

Garrus growls. "Is it that obvious?"

This time her smile is different, reminding him of the time when they were both crew on the first Normandy, not quite friends but comrades, which can sometimes mean a closer bond than friendship (and sometimes nothing at all).

"Yes," she says.

He's lost for words. That happens to him a lot. Luckily just that instant a drone flies over to them, babbling something about archives, drawing Liara's attention off him momentarily. She mumbles something into the microphone she wears at her throat.

He takes the opportunity to look around, takes in the dozens of screens and terminals, the huge hall and its relative emptiness.

"Don't you get lonely here?" he asks before he can stop himself.

She finishes her conversation before she turns back to him. "Feron is here," she answers matter-of-factly. "So what is it I can help you with, Garrus?  I suppose you need information."

"Yes." It's hard to continue. He shouldn't be telling her this, when he hasn't told anyone else yet. But she's the one with the connections. If anyone can help, it's her.

The sentence is stuck in his throat. When he forces it out it sounds hoarse and quiet. "I'm looking for a treatment... for a rare medical condition."

"Corpalis syndrome."

Suddenly he's sharp again. "How do you know that?"

"The old shadow broker had a file on you. I kept it. I'm sorry, Garrus, it's how it works. I can't throw away information just because it's private."

Damn that Asari and her psychological finesse, the way she knows how dear his privacy is to him. "What else do you know?"

She shrugs. "The functions of your visor. That you can read my emotional reactions by tracking my heartbeat and breathing pattern."

"I turned that off. Using it among friends would be paranoid." Not that he's never used it among friends, but he tries to resist the temptation. It's not a bad thing wanting to trust someone, is it?

"Oh. That's... one way to see it."

"About that information I need..."

"Yes?"

"I can't really give you anything for it, at least not something you're in need of. You certainly don't need more pocket money. However, it's said the Shadow Broker deals in favors."

"That's right, but –"

"But, what? But you don't take payment from friends, or more to the point, Shepard's friends?"

"Garrus –"

"I pay my depts, Dr. T'Soni."

She sighs. "I know that. It... might take some time until I have something."

Something's not right about the way she says it, but he's getting tired of nuances and negotiation. Ridiculous as it sounds, it has taken a lot from him to come here and ask this woman for help in a matter as personal as this one. Now he just wants to get it over with.

"Just message me with the results. And thank you, Liara. About that favor, you might want to collect that before we take the Omega 4 relay. Chances are you won't get the opportunity again after that."

"I have something in mind. I'll contact you with the details in a few days."

"Good."

There's an awkward silence; he could bet Liara's looking at him with pity in her eyes. It makes him squirm. "So... I'd better be going," he says.

For a moment he thinks she's going to hug him, and he isn't sure how he'd feel about that. But she just lays a warm hand on his arm and smiles rather sadly.

"We are very much alike, you and me, Garrus. Who would have thought."

Who indeed, he thinks.

"Good luck with the IFF and everything else. Take care."

Garrus nods mechanically.

"You'll hear from me." She lets him go, and he turns toward the door.

"It was good being on the same team with you, Dr. T'Soni", he says without looking back and leaves before he can hear her answer.

 

\--------------

 

"Corpalis syndrome, huh?" Dr. Chakwas whirls around on her seat, turning to face him. "Why do you want me to test you for this, Garrus? It's a rare condition. Why not Lorus or Serallin?"

She's assured him confidentiality. He hopes she will keep her promise. "My mother has it", he admits.

"I see. I'll take your blood sample and check for signs."

It gives her credit that she doesn't say she's sorry or gets this annoying look of pity in her face that humans seem to show so often. She just gets to work, efficient, reliable. Garrus rather likes her.

"Is your mother on chemical treatment, then?" Chakwas asks in a tone of cool professional interest.

"At the moment, yes, but I'm looking into something new, an experimental approach developed by a Salarian medical team.  Dr. T'Soni put me in touch with them."

"Interesting. Do you want me to check in with them, to get a second opinion?"

"If you have the time..."

"It would be a welcome distraction. I'm running out of tasks on this ship as long as no one receives a wound their armor can't heal by itself."

 

\--------------

 

There's an encrypted message on his private terminal the next day.

 

 _Garrus,_

 _There's a ship, the_ Notorious _, scheduled to arrive at Omega's space port 7 in two days' time, at 04.00 in the morning._

 _I hear the Normandy is close by. Maybe you could inspect that ship for me and retrieve a piece of cargo, a package labeled 544-rg that should be hidden somewhere in the cargo hold._

 _You may think that I could employ some random mercenary to do the same, but I'd prefer to have someone I trust on the job. There will likely be trouble with the_ Notorious _' captain; try to find out a bit more about that cargo from her if you can take her alive._

 _If you can take the time to take care of this for me, I will consider us even._

 _Liara_

 

\--------------

 

The task she's given him is much too easy to count as payment for her help, making it seem like she's trying to protect him instead of taking him seriously. Well, it's not like he can complain, that would be childish, and after all what she wants to do with her assets is her own choice.

 

Docking station 7 inside Omega's huge space port is eerily empty and quiet at this time of night. The _Notorious_ (what a name for a good ship!) has already docked minutes ago, still nobody has come ashore. All lights aboard the vessel are extinguished. Between stacks of containers Garrus sits in perfect shooting position, as comfortable as a sniper can get. If they come out and head for the city, he'll sneak inside their ship, steal that package and capture anyone who stayed behind. His M-92 is just a precaution, in case anything goes wrong at the very start.

Fortunately the one thing he has never lacked is patience.

More minutes pass, a quarter of an hour, half an hour.

The other docks come alive; from a distance Garrus can hear voices and rumbling, workers discharging goods, the shrill piping of stapler mechs. No sun ever comes up on Omega Station.

 

He's been here before, of course. All the sounds are familiar, as are the shapes of containers, machines and ships around him in the near dark. One time they intercepted a syndicate boss and his inner circle trying to leave the station, at dock 8, only a few hundred feet from here. It was one hell of a shootout, but his was the superior force, and Archangel gained control over a lot of 'business transactions' that day. That was only a year ago. It seems much longer.

 

Something moves over at the dock, forcing Garrus to abandon his reminiscence and concentrate.

The _Notorious_ ' hatch opens to reveal three figures, Turian, Volus and Asari. While they lock the hatch behind them and begin to walk in the city's direction, talking about business opportunities, Garrus crouches lower behind the container that blocks their view of him. He waits, holding his breath until they're past him and out of sight. Then he grabs the Vindicator and sneaks towards the ship, from cover to cover.

Liara has given him the lock code. The hatch opens with a soft squeak and he slips inside.

The _Notorious_ is a Turian trader vessel whose design he knows well, so it's easy to navigate his way to the cargo bay, still moving quietly, avoiding areas where crew members might be on watch. Passing through he notices a Turian woman reading in the mess and two Asari in Engineering, giggling over some joke, all of them oblivious to his presence.

The cargo area is deserted. Garrus scans through rows of containers and boxes, looking for 544-rg.

Suddenly there's a loud cracking noise behind him, then the familiar click of a gun's safety being released. He lets his body drop to the floor instinctively and slides behind the next container close to him, when shots hit the air where he was a split second ago. A quick look shows him the reading woman standing in the entrance, only partially in cover with her back to the wall, weapon held in both hands, pointing in his direction. His visor targets her, reading her vitals: heart fluttering, breath labored. She's not used to this, or she wouldn't be this excited.

He leans out of cover for just a second, aims and shoots. She goes down immediately.

But when he's just starting to turn around to get a better view of the whole area, cool metal is pressed under his chin. Click. He looks into the eyes of another female Turian. Her breathing pattern is even. She smiles. "Drop the gun."

 

"So we've caught ourselves an agent of the Shadow Broker, just like a little bird whispered in our ear yesterday." The relaxed one and a human he hasn't seen before have chained him to a thick tube at the far wall of the cargo hold. They are both pointing guns at him. "What were you after?"

Garrus doesn't answer. What's there to say? He's been stupid, overconfident. Ignored too many of the basics. Now he will at least stay silent, that much he owes to Liara who won't be getting her package from him after all.

"Oh come on, we're honest merchants, not torturers! Maybe we'll even let you go if you tell us want you were sent to steal."

Oh great. He'll have to listen to blabbering like this for the next few hours before she gets serious? The woman should know that's worse than torture.

She babbles some more; he doesn't pay attention. Instead he maps the area with his eyes, the first steps of plan B.

After a few minutes she looks over her shoulder and nods to someone behind her. He raises his head to see the one he's shot, with a bandage around her belly, but otherwise fine. She's quite a bit older than the other two, who appear to be roughly Garrus' age.

"That's the intruder?"

 The younger woman nods. "Yep. Must be the one from the Shadow Broker, the one we were warned about."

The injured woman looks directly at him for the first time. Something stirs inside him.

"Wait", the woman says. "I know you. If you come from the Shadow Broker, how can I know you?"

Garrus' thoughts run wild. He does remember her, too, but where from? Well, they're on Omega, where people from various backgrounds have crossed his path, for better or for worse. She could be anyone, a friend or a dangerous enemy. Why not jump in the face of this issue? Why wait and suffer more awkwardness and beating around the bush?

"I was known as Archangel when I worked here", he says, but at the same time he can see she already remembers.

"Yes, yes, I know", she says. "We've met just once, and this is an odd time and place to see you again, isn't it."

He blinks. A muscle twitches in his neck.

"You don't remember me, do you?"

Garrus shakes his head.

"Melanis, who worked with you, was my son. We met when I brought you some information I had collected on one of my trips to Illium as a favor to Melanis."

"I remember now. Trejana, was it?" Oh, he sounds weak. All his regret seeps through his voice, making it stumble. "I'm very sorry. It was my mistake that killed your son, who trusted me. There is no excuse."

"You can go," Trejana orders, and it takes him a moment to realize she's addressing her two crew members who guarded him – they leave, mumbling weak protest. With this unexpected turn of events he's almost forgotten their presence. Trejana unties him and motions him to sit on the ground beside her.

"I heard about the traitor," she tells him. "Did you get him? Did you avenge my son and your other partners?"

"Sidonis is dead, yes." The knowledge soothes him, at least a little bit. "I sincerely hope that helps you to find peace."

Her eyes gleam. Turians don't cry like Humans or Asari do. "Perhaps it will. Only time can tell. It's good to know that you cared enough to execute revenge, that is what helps me."

"Of course I cared enough. They were my team, my responsibility. I was honor bound to protect them."

They are silent for a long time after that.

Eventually Trejana rises and wipes the dust from her clothes. Garrus follows her example.

"Did you really come here today to steal something for the Shadow Broker?"

"I'm sorry I shot you."

"A question you will not answer, then."

He can't say anything to that, or can he? "I... came here today to do a friend a favor. But to you I owe a lot more." Not to mention you beat me, he thinks and is grateful she doesn't mention it.

 

\-------------

 

Garrus asks Shepard for the opportunity to use the conference room with its safeguards against wiretapping  - in private. She looks at him weird and grants it.

It takes some minutes for Liara to doublecheck the connection; then she's there, a perfect hologram standing right beside him.

"I busted it", he says, setting the tone he wants for this conversation.

"I heard."

"How are we going to solve this? Is there something I can give you as compensation?"

"Oh Garrus." Her voice is so soft. Compassionate. "Sometimes a mission doesn't succeed. It happens to everyone."

"I owed you. There's no room for mistakes in a mission like this one, and I made several."

"That's what I mean. Everyone makes mistakes. You seem to think that's an empty phrase meant to comfort you, but it's actually simply the truth. You're not stupid, you know  I'm right."

Doesn't she get it? Impossible. "Liara, you of all people should know that forgiveness has no place in a business relationship. There's work and there's payment, nothing else."

"Says the vigilante, who worked only for justice and the idea of a better world."

No, she won't coax him into defeated silence again, not this time.

"The work I did as Archangel has nothing to do with this matter."

"Garrus, what do you want me to do, scold you, demand compensation? What would I gain from that, apart from the opportunity to watch you torment yourself, which is not exactly a rare sight anyway?"

"I..."

"You wanted the job, Garrus. I didn't need you to do anything for me, hell, I already had that damn information about Corpalis on my computer waiting for a chance to give it to you. You and your damned honor, Garrus. I respect all that, I do, but don't keep forcing it on me when all I wanted to do is lend a friend some assistance."

Stunned he listens to her working herself into a rage. Is this even about him anymore?

"Can't you imagine what it's like, being in this amazing position, having so much power, so much influence? I want to share it with someone. Use my resources for something worthwhile instead of just juggling secrets for the fun of it."

She's said all she wanted to say. Her shoulders sack; the tension leaves her features.

"I see", Garrus says. And he does, at that.

At their last encounter, didn't she say something about her and him being alike? She's certainly made her point today.

“Be careful,” he warns her. “If you start trying to be nice to everyone you'll lose this position a lot quicker than you might expect.

She laughs. It sounds flat.

“Look,” she says then, “let's forget about that favor you think you owe me. We've fought beside each other more times than I can count, that should be worth anything. Just get that treatment under way  before you go saving the galaxy again so I won't have to sell my Intel to the collectors or the reapers, because I seriously don't want to do that. And you might want to ask Dr. Solus for help, I think he should be able to speed up procedures for those Salarian doctors.”

Garrus matches her half-smile with one of his own. “I will,” he says.

For a minute they listen to that new companionable silence, two holograms, a thousand light years away from each other.

Finally Garrus nods and turns off the console. The room is empty, but a shadow lingers.

 


End file.
